


There's No Way I'm Turning Back

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Awkward, Best Friends Get Handcuffed Together For a Week, Get together fic, Handcuffs, Kissing, M/M, Nudity, Podfic Welcome, showering together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 10:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16366052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: It's day five of seven for their 'Best Friends Get Handcuffed Together for a Week' video, and Ryan has definitely lost his mind.





	There's No Way I'm Turning Back

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this fic, initially, entirely on my phone while i was on vacation, and then edited it, and promptly forgot to post it for a week, haha. this fills the prompt for 'handcuffs' w/ the shyan scavenger hunt for october! apologies in advance for the lack of awkward handcuff handjobs, my muse just didn' wanna cooperate and i'm tired of looking at this.
> 
> big thanks to hannah for beta'ing!
> 
> enjoy!

Ryan hits his breaking point standing outside of Shane's shower.

He's cold, even though the room is filled to the brim with steam, and he feels grimy from their long flight back from Indiana. He still feels a little haunted from their trip, too, and he always rinses away those feelings with a nice, piping hot shower. Ryan sighs, unheard due to the heavy shower spray, and glares at the handcuff hanging from his wrist, connecting him to Shane. Shane, who's standing under the spray Ryan's desperately coveting.

Ryan is clad in boxers and nothing else and all he wants, more than anything in the world, is to get cozy and warm under some nice, heavy water pressure and go the fuck to sleep.

He's sick of waiting for Shane—not that the guy takes long showers, just that the whole 'best friends get handcuffed together for a week' business makes everything take three times as long—so he makes an executive decision.

"I'm coming in," he announces, pleased when his voice hardly rattles.

Shane hums, a sound almost lost under the spray. "Bout time," he says, as if he's been waiting for it.

Ryan scowls and shoves at his boxers before kicking them off in the general direction of the hamper. He yanks back the shower curtain and clambers in just behind Shane. Ryan’s right hand being cuffed to Shane’s left means it takes some careful maneuvering to end up behind him without tugging their arms too far out of place. As it is, their hands brush as their arms dangle awkwardly between their bodies

"Have at it," Shane says as he lathers conditioner into his hair. He keeps scrubbing at his hair with one hand so that Ryan has both hands free. They shuffle awkwardly to get Ryan under the spray. Shane keeps lathering as Ryan reaches for the shampoo. It's tricky to do with one hand partially restrained, but Shane leans closer so Ryan can juggle the bottle in his hands a little easier.

Ryan stops and looks at the orange bottle, takes a whiff and lets the familiar scent wash over him. Smells just like Shane, like Shane's pillows, like his hoodie. It's a scent Ryan has known for ages but one he's become intimately familiar with this past week thanks to their close quarters. It's a good smell, woodsy with a hint of citrus; it's worlds better than Ryan's own. He drizzles a dollop into his hand before setting the bottle back on the self and raising one hand to lather it through his hair. He lets his handcuffed arm hang limp at his side.

"You can use both hands, I got nothing going on back here," Shane tells him. Ryan flips him the bird and scrubs pointedly at his own scalp. "Ryan, just—"

"I got it!" Ryan says just before he sticks his head under the spray. He normally just tilts his head back to let the suds rinse away but that would require turning around and therefore more awkward maneuvering and he's just not feeling up to it. He scrunches his eyes shut as the suds slide off his head, over his face, to the drain below.

They're on day five of seven of this whole handcuffs’ nonsense; he's more than ready for it to be over. Clearly, he thinks as he looks down at his naked thighs, he’s lost his mind if he’s naked with Shane in the shower.

Shane tsks and reaches past Ryan with the hand not weighed down by a cuff. He grabs the conditioner and squeezes it right onto Ryan's head before starting to rub gently with both hands.

The action forces Ryan's arm to raise at an odd angle, but he almost doesn't even care. Shane's fingers across his scalp feel too good for him to care about anything else.

"You're being very mature about this," Shane says. "Proud of you."

"You're a jerk." Ryan tilts his head back and Shane works the conditioner into the front of Ryan's hair. "You're telling me you're just totally chill with being dicks out in a shower with me?"

The handcuffs rattle as Shane's motions stop abruptly. He resumes when Ryan makes a small whiny noise in the back of his throat. "I'm certainly not opposed," Shane says, so soft Ryan could've easily missed it.

Ryan blinks. "Uh, what?"

Shane clears his throat. "I'm not opposed. To, y’know, being dicks out with you. In any context."

Ryan blinks again. He brings his free hand to his ear and makes a show of digging at it, as if to clear out some earwax or other obstruction. "You—you want that?"

"I'm not opposed," Shane clarifies again. "Especially if _you're_ not opposed." His hands finally leave Ryan's hair as he quietly commands, "rinse."

Ryan ducks his head under the spray again. He brings his free hand up to run his fingers through his hair and get out the thick conditioner. It's not the same as Shane's fingers, a distinction that takes up almost all of Ryan's thoughts as he rinses his hair. The rest of his thoughts are, understandably, taken up by Shane's confession.

"You wanna wash my back?" Ryan asks, half-joking for lack of knowing what else to say to Shane.

He's wholly unprepared for the rush of air and nearly reverent way Shane says, " _Yes_."

Ryan gulps and passes the body wash back to Shane. "Go nuts, big guy." Even though he gives permission, he still startles when Shane’s fingertips skirt his back, palm curved around a loofah. Their hands connected by cuffs hang awkwardly between them as Shane meticulously scrubs the loofah across Ryan's back, his shoulders, down to the dimples just above his ass.

Ryan gulps again and takes the loofah when Shane declares him good enough. He almost, _almost_ , makes a crack about Shane getting his front, too, but that feels like too much suddenly. Too much for this heavy unspoken thing, too much to tackle in the little shower while cheap metal bites into their wrists.

Ryan washes his front and then slips under the spray once more to rinse everything away. He's almost disappointed in himself for the lack of dick jokes to be had, but he's also been pointedly avoiding looking at Shane's dick—or his own for that matter, which is definitely at half chub.

"You good?" Shane asks.

Ryan nods and reaches out to turn off the water. "Yep."

Shane pushes the shower curtain aside before they awkwardly turn, facing out of the tub-slash-shower to the open air of the bathroom.

Ryan, against his better judgement, chances a glance down. He nearly swallows his tongue at the sight of Shane's dick, definitely more than half hard. He's not new to attraction to guys and he's not new to attraction to Shane but seeing his, his _dick_ puts things in perspective.

Namely, he thinks he gets why Shane sounded so reverent earlier.

"Wanna skip boxers?" Ryan asks, feeling bold.

Shane chokes on a response and his voice is scratchy when he finally manages to reply. "We gotta film our before bed interview."

"We'll film it above the waist. Just pass me a towel."

Shane does as asked and Ryan swings the towel around his waist. He tucks it so it won't shift, but still sits low on his hips. He watches Shane do the same, albeit clumsier, and then they're off. They shuffle out of the bathroom and to the bedroom where a camera is already perched at Shane's desk, ready and waiting for them to hit record.

Ryan stands aside as Shane fiddles with the angle to keep it just high enough that they're exposed from the chest up. The shirtless factor isn't a concern, that's nothing new. Ryan runs hot and usually sleeps shirtless, and Shane's already had one night in this absurdly long week where he stripped down to nothing but his briefs because of the heat.

Shane nods and they fall into the chairs set up in front of the desk, Ryan's left elbow bumping Shane's right.

"So! Night five of seven," Ryan starts, grinning in a way he hopes hides his jittery nerves. All he wants to do is talk to Shane or touch him or just crawl into bed with him. "Just got done with the nightly routine, so far it's the same as it's been every night."

Shane nods along. "We showered together tonight."

Ryan bites his tongue on an admonishment; he expected Shane to spill that, if only because it is a pretty funny thought. "We did," Ryan agrees. "No footage though," he says cheekily, and he laughs when Shane winks at the camera.

"How ya feeling, Ryan? Ready for this to be over?"

"Definitely," Ryan says confidently. "I know everyone jokes about how we're attached at the hip but there's gotta be some space. Gotta keep the mystery alive."

Shane snorts. "I think we destroyed any and all mystery today."

"Is your imagination really so limited?" Ryan fires back, the words coming to him without a second thought. "There's plenty of mystery left." Then, Ryan does the unthinkable; _he_ winks at _Shane_.

And he's rewarded with a vibrant blush.

They stare at each other for a beat too long and Ryan comes out of the trance first.

"Clearly, we're both exhausted. So we're gonna cut this short and call it a night!" He reaches out and flicks off the camera. He glances sideways at Shane.

They stand, and Shane says, "We should talk about this," at the same moment Ryan drops his towel. Whatever else Shane was going to say never comes and his mouth hangs open, wide and perfectly round.

"Listen," Ryan starts. He steps minutely closer. "I never said anything cuz I figured it just wasn't gonna happen. For, like, a fuckton of potential reasons. And I was fine with that, really. But if there's one thing this week has taught me it's that one, you're insufferable to live with and two, I'm kind of in love with your insufferableness."

Shane's mouth shuts with a click.

"We good?" Ryan asks. "Is that enough talking for you?"

"What, you don't want me to confess my undying love for you right back?" Shane snarks.

Ryan's lips pull into a broad grin; he can’t help his wild giggle. "I mean," he says slowly, bringing a hand to Shane's still damp hip. "I wouldn't be opposed."

Shane barks out a laugh and leans down. "Well, in that case."

Shane kisses him softly, as gently as he washed Ryan's hair and his back. He cups Ryan's cheek and tilts his head just so, in the perfect way for their lips to slide together soft and seamless. Ryan sighs into the kiss and Shane echoes him; they each press closer and they part just before the kiss deepens.

"Let's go to bed," Ryan says, hushed and heavy.

Shane nods and finally lets his own towel drop. They both take a moment to stare unabashedly at each other, grinning both bashfully and appreciatively. Shane tugs lightly with his hand connected to Ryan's and then they're stumbling toward Shane's bed for the fifth time this week, in a way that feels monumentally different from all the times before.

Ryan sighs as he slides under the covers. Shane's bed is infinitely more comfortable than his and he's going to miss it—but something tells him he's going to be spending a lot of nights here even after the handcuffs come off.

Shane looks sleepy and soft with his head on his usual pillow. He's grinning in a way that seems like he can't get himself to quit. Ryan knows the feeling.

"So, all it took was me washing your hair for you to fall for me?" Shane asks after a beat of silence.

Ryan rolls his eyes and scoots forward so he can take Shane by the hip again. He thumbs over Shane's hip bone and kisses him once on the lips before answering.

"Nah. Just got tired of waiting is all."

"For me or the shower?"

"Both," Ryan says simply. "I mean, it helps that you definitely weren't subtle. I really didn't think I had a chance until you were practically begging to wash my back."

Shane doesn't even deny it. He shrugs. "What can I say, I'm a guy of simple pleasures."

Ryan laughs. The moment stills around them and Ryan lets himself melt into the bed. “I know I maybe, uh, implied something with the whole skipping boxers thing, but—?”

“This is good, too,” Shane interrupts. He leans in and brushes his nose against Ryan’s. “Besides, I think the handcuffs might make things a little tricky.”

“We could always take them off.”

“We’ve come this far!” Shane cries. “Now you want to jeopardize the sanctity of our video just for a couple handies?”

Ryan slaps a hand against Shane’s chest as he laughs. “Maybe. No. Shut up.” He’s still laughing when Shane kisses him again. “No, we can do this. Just two more days.”

“Yeah.” Shane settles closer to Ryan, enough that their knees knock together and their chests touch. “Whose idea was it to do this video again?”

Ryan hums as sleep starts to tug at him. “Curly, I think?”

“Right. Remind me to send him a fruit basket or something.”


End file.
